


One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

by orphan_account



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Murdoc Niccals, M/M, Phase Two (Gorillaz), Top Stuart "2D" Pot, Unhealthy Relationships, murdoc & stu physically fight for a bit but it's not graphic at all, take a shot everytime someone says a word with "fuck" in it, they're mad at each other but the sex is completely consensual i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 07:04:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18493843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: They hadn't even resolved anything. They just argued more, ended up in bed together, and left some things unsaid.





	One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the Dirty Harry interview from Rise of the Ogre! I took the dialogue from the interview session directly from pages 246 and 247, which you can find here:  
> https://imgur.com/a/D8vTOZp?
> 
> I remember reading what Murdoc and Stu said to each other on those pages and was just so blown away????? They're in so much denial about their attraction to each other, it's literally ridiculous.
> 
> Also, this is my first time writing about actual intercourse between the two of them. My other two fics containing 2Doc smut are just all about masturbation and sadness, so... it's nice to do something different for a change.
> 
> Anyway, happy reading!

_“Everyone, everyone!”_

 

The three men instantly snapped their heads up. They looked right at the young girl, who was staring back at them expectantly.

 

She spoke up again, clasping her hands together in anticipation. “The journalist just called and said she’ll be coming in twenty minutes! I shouldn’t have to be reminding you all about this, but I want _everyone_ ” — she glared at the eldest member of the band — “to be on their best behaviour during the interview.”

 

Noodle kept her eyes on him, crossing her arms to show that she means business. “Murdoc, please empty your pockets so that I know you don’t have any tricks up your sleeve this time.”

 

The bassist scoffed. “Sweet Satan, am I really _that_ untrustworthy?” he replied sarcastically as he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, pulling them out to show they were empty. “Look, I’ve got nothing, luv.”

  
  
The guitarist pursed her lips, still skeptical of his motives. She immediately thought of another place that Murdoc could hide some doohickeys. “Alright, so there’s nothing inside your pockets. Now how about your boots?”

  
Murdoc sighed dramatically and kicked off his Cuban heeled leather boots. He picked them up and turned them upside down, shaking them to show that their insides were empty. “Nothin’ in here either.”

 

He even removed his socks to further prove his point. “See, I’m not hiding anything at all! So can you _please_ get off my case now, _Mother dear?”_

 

The teenager placed a hand on her hip. “Okay, I believe you. But you never even explained why you threw those poppers on the ground during the last interview.”

 

Murdoc rolled his eyes. He never liked explaining himself, but he refused to disobey the girl who was like a daughter to him. “‘Cause _Mr. Frontman_ here” — he jabbed his false thumb towards 2D — “abused his power as the poster boy of Gorillaz to talk’ over me and dominate the last interview. He hasn’t been listening to me _very much_ lately, so I decided to use some explosives to have things my way again. Y’know, like they’re _supposed_ to be.”

 

2D scowled at Murdoc, folding his arms across his chest. “You could have _at least_ thrown only one instead of the whole pack. They were all so loud, they made my migraine a whole lot worse. I hope you’re happy, Murdoc.”

 

The bassist smirked. “I am bloody happy, actually. You got to linger in the background and keep your yapper shut, while I got to take front and center stage again.”

 

“ _Oh_ , come off it,” Stu snapped. “No one even wants to listen to you talk. You’re all mouth and trousers, and your voice sounds like gravel whirring through a blender.”

 

Murdoc grunted, scooting closer to 2D on the couch as he grabbed on to the collar of his shirt, his grip firm and threatening. “At least _my voice_ doesn’t sound squeakier than ten people simultaneously running their nails down a chalkboard.”

 

2D didn’t have a clever comeback, so he grimaced and launched his arms forward to give Murdoc a good shove away from him. However, before he could accomplish his goal, Russel suddenly intervened, wrapping his giant and hefty hands around Stu’s thin wrists.

 

“Don’t start this shit _now_ ,” the drummer growled. “Especially not right before an interview.”

 

“Yeah, 2D!” Murdoc piped in teasingly. “Who do you think you are, starting a fight with a poor innocent victim like me?!”

 

Stu glared right at the bassist, feeling a headache coming on. “Says the person who nearly strangled me to death,” he muttered under his breath.

 

However, his remark wasn’t quiet enough for Russel to miss. As much as he wanted to take 2D’s side, he wanted to bring some peace between his friends much more. “What did I just say, D?”

 

2D pursed his lips, looking down at the ground as he massaged his temples. “Sorry, Russ.”

 

The drummer nodded, then turned to the older man on his left. “And you?”

 

“Yeah, whatever,” Murdoc responded dismissively, waving his hand in the air.

 

Russel knew that was the best apology he was going to get from his emotionally constipated bandmate, so he considered the deed to be done. But in the event that the boys get angry with each other during the interview, Russel decided to sit between the two of them so that they couldn’t act out on each other again.

 

He then removed his hands from 2D’s arms, hoping that the men wouldn’t quarrel once more. “Aight, now one of you scoot over so I can take a seat.”

 

The blue-haired singer moved closer to the arm of the couch, giving Russel some room to sit down. There was still some space between him and 2D, so Noodle made to occupy that spot—until she was interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

 

“She’s here!” the young girl announced before scampering towards the front door.

 

Seconds later, she appeared back in the living room with a blonde woman named Jess. After taking a seat, Jess started asking questions about the new Dirty Harry music video. She eventually inquired, “How did the band acquire the truck that Russel drove through the desert?”

 

As Murdoc talked his mouth off, 2D zoned out and kept shaking his leg up and down repeatedly to work off nervous energy.

 

“… Suddenly, right, there’s all this banging on the side of the truck. I’m surrounded by all these army geezers! Carrying great big military shooters!” the bass player exclaimed, his face lit up in awe as though he was reliving that moment.

 

He continued on, “So I lock the door, bend down, hot wire the truck, and get the hell out of there, quicksmart. The soldiers were shooting bullets at me, trying to get me to stop, but I thought, ‘Sod it’. I just drove off. Laughing and beeping the horn,” he recounted with a chuckle. “I headed straight, by accident, mind, for the video shoot location… So that’s how we got the truck for the shoot.”

 

Russel turned to Murdoc, a quizzical look on his face. “I never knew that, Muds. You could have got the whole crew in big trouble with that stunt.”

 

Murdoc rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut your face. _Everything_ worked out fine. You worry too much, Russ.”

 

Jess took a few moments to scribble some notes down before lifting her head up again, this time looking towards 2D’s direction. “So with the band, a guest star, a kid’s choir, and an armoured personnel vehicle procured, the shoot began in earnest. As for you, 2D” — Stu raised his brows at the sound of his name — “you felt that the script called for a little nudity, I see…”

 

2D briefly brought himself back to reality and nodded, thinking back to his time on the set. “I took my shirt off ‘cos I was, like, well hot. But seeing as Murdoc turned up with the first aid truck, I made sure I used loads of suncream. Anyway, I don’t burn… I just kinda bronze, really.”

 

Murdoc scoffed and shook his head, thinking that the singer had it all wrong. “Mate, you go bright pink. Like an embarrassed lobster.”

 

Stu rolled his eyes before he retaliated against the bassist’s snide comment. “Well, I also thought seeing as Murdoc was topless in the ‘Feel Good Inc.’ video, I’d give it a go. My body’s _way_ better than his anyway. And I don’t have the paunch.”

 

The bassist’s expression suddenly darkened, 2D’s biting remark making his skin crawl. However, he kept up his guard and fought back. “No. But you do have the torso of an eight-year-old girl with rickets. I’d keep that figure under wraps if I was you. You’ll blow your whole cover.”

 

Even the journalist could feel the tension between them, quickly scrawling their dialogue on paper so that they could move right on to the next topic.

 

The interview kept going on, though Murdoc was still hung up about Stu’s catty interaction with him in the back of his mind. 2D’s words irritated the fuck out of him, and his thoughts trailed off to the jibes Stu made about his acting in Feel Good Inc. not that long ago.

 

_‘Murdoc was playing up so much when we were filming. Anyone with any real soul would see right through his antics.’_

 

_‘Murdoc is such a poser. In the video, he was thrusting his giblets in front of the cameras. Tart. He wasn’t asked to do that at all.’_

 

However, the older man wasn’t so hung up on the insults as much as he was about the fact that this impudent behaviour wasn’t _new_ for his friend. Ever since the band’s reunion, Stu had been significantly more defiant and displayed an overwhelming amount of confidence in himself. It maddened Murdoc to know that 2D wasn’t the same impressionable young man who could easily be manipulated and pushed around anymore.

 

Their relationship worked out much more in Murdoc’s favour back in the early days. If he needed a stress reliever or someone to project his uncontrollable anger onto, he’d go straight to 2D without any second thoughts. The singer would never question it when Murdoc would yell at him or use him as a punching bag. He’d just take it and never complain, continuing to love and worship the person who he felt saved his life.

 

But they weren’t like that anymore.

 

They had never had a conversation before about Stu’s change in temperament, but Murdoc decided it was now or never. He wanted to make sure 2D understood who was _really_ boss around here, and that he _needs_ to revert back to the humble wallflower he used to be. No more humiliating Murdoc in front of interviewers and their fans across the globe. No more fighting back against Murdoc with insults and slander. No more acting like a cocky sod who lived under the delusion that he had a tough and competent bone in his body.

 

It was time to set things straight.

 

Once Jess left the landfill mansion, 2D retreated to his room. Shortly after, Murdoc took the lift to the carpark and knocked on Stu’s bedroom door, his arms folded across his chest as he waited for him to open up.

 

The tall man answered a few seconds later, raising a brow at his bandmate. “What do you want?”

 

“Let me in,” Murdoc demanded, though he didn’t give Stu some time to comply and pushed right past him.

 

2D shut the door, but kept standing beside it—just in case he needed an escape route from Murdoc’s wrath. “Why the hell are you here?”

 

“Get over here so I can tell you,” Murdoc ordered with an edge to his tone.

 

Stu scrunched his nose. “Why? I can hear you from over here just fine.”

 

The bassist rolled his eyes. “Since when do mates have heart-to-heart conversations while standing forty feet away from each other?”

 

“Since when do _we_ have heart-to-heart conversations with each other?” 2D retorted.

 

“Since right now. If you won’t come over to me, _I’ll_ come over to you myself.”

 

Murdoc proceeded to approach 2D, now standing about four feet away from him. Although the height difference between them was staggering, the shorter of the two attempted to make himself look bigger. He furrowed his brows at 2D, staring him down with a resting scowl on his face.

 

The Satanist’s voice dropped down to a dangerously calm tone. “Rrrrright then. I came here to ask you a question, and I need you to answer it the _right_ way.”

 

Murdoc paused to let his words sink in to his rival’s thick skull, glaring daggers at him. “So tell me, _Stu_. Tell me, just _who the fuck_ do you _think_ you are?”

 

An incredulous look spread across 2D’s face, rage beginning to pulsate through his veins. “I think _you_ should be asking yourself that question.”

 

Murdoc chuckled condescendingly. “I know _exactly_ who I am, so I’ll go ahead and answer it for you—‘cause _you_ seem to keep forgetting _who_ you’re fucking with here. I’m Murdoc Faust Niccals: bassist, leader, and mastermind behind the legendary band, Gorillaz. I’m a British Don Juan with a sharp mind, a knack for songwriting, and a killer cock. I’m so brilliant, in fact, that if a person makes eye contact with me, they can rightfully claim that they’ve seen God.”

 

Stu glared at him, growing angrier by the second. “ _Oh_ , so is that the meaning you get when you look up ‘arsehole’ in the dictionary?”

 

The Satanist sneered. “No. But I do know the definition you get when you look up the word ‘tosser.’”

 

“Oh?” 2D replied with mock curiosity as he crossed his arms, ready for the insults that Murdoc would throw at him. “Let’s hear it, then.”

 

“Alright, _bluebird_. Prepare yourself, because I’m about to arm you with knowledge.”

 

Murdoc took a dramatic pause, maintaining strong eye contact with his nemesis in an attempt to intimidate him. He then began speaking loud and clear. “A tosser is someone who _never_ thanks his band leader for giving him fame, fortune, a mansion to live in, and sex appeal so powerful that the tosser can dampen any woman’s knickers just by standing there and _existing._ He’ll go around putting his best friend down, because he’s so conceited that he’s out of this world; he has his head in the clouds and thinks he’s the shit, when he’s _really_ just _plain old shit.”_

 

Stu glowered at the bassist, not letting those harsh words get to him. He had plenty more for Murdoc himself, his head throbbing as his heart rate picked up. “That’s not the right definition. You aren’t as book smart as you _think_ you are, and you certainly aren’t street smart either. Anyone with a shred of common sense wouldn’t abuse their closest mate, steal their girlfriends, _or_ choke them to the brink of death just ‘cos they brought up a shoddy idea for a movie scene.”

 

A wave of guilt slapped Murdoc right in the face, but he wouldn’t let himself show it. He pushed his uncharacteristic remorse to the darkest corner of his mind, growling from the back of his throat as he raised his voice by several decibels. _“That’s it!”_

 

He balled his hands into fists, swiftly making his way to punch 2D in the face. However, the taller man used his long legs to his own advantage, quickly stepping away to dodge the attack. Immediately after, he fished out his switchblade knife from his pocket and flicked the blade up so that it was visible. He pointed it in Murdoc’s direction, his grip firm on the black metal base.

 

2D narrowed his eyes at Murdoc. “I carry my switchblade with me at all times. You seem to keep forgetting who you’re fucking with here,” he quipped superciliously.

 

Murdoc’s heart leapt in his chest, stunned by Stu’s fearlessness and the fact that he used one of the bassist’s own lines against him. Nonetheless, he tried his best to hide his terror, his hands still clenched into fists. “Fuck off, you don’t even know how to use that thing.”

 

2D kept his knife in the air, not wanting to admit that the Satanist was right. “Oh, yeah? Well, you’ve got a heart, but _you_ don’t even know how to use that thing.”

 

The older man yelled out loud like a child throwing a tantrum, slamming his fists down in the air. “ _Goddammit_ , I’m _sick_ of your bullshit!”

 

“I’m sick of yours too,” Stu replied coolly. “At least that’s one thing we can agree on.”

 

Murdoc clenched his jaw, breathing hard through his nose as he took a moment to recollect himself. Once he felt ready, he spoke up again in an unwavering tone, “ _Stu_ … would you like to know _why_ I’ve grown sick of you lately?”

 

“Sure,” 2D responded nonchalantly, though the hand that held his knife began to tremble. “Your faults far outweigh mine anyway.”

 

Murdoc sighed, knowing in the back of his mind that 2D was correct. However, he didn’t come here to admit defeat. He came here to call out Stu and put an end to his vexing behaviour once and for all.

 

With that reminder in his head, he felt ready to drive his point home. “Alright then,” Murdoc replied softly, like the calm before the storm.

 

He then went back to raising his voice at 2D, digging his uncut nails into his palm. “I’m _sick_ of you being such a cocky lil’ shit! You had no right to insult the way I acted in the sodding music videos. I was showin’ off in the Feel Good Inc. video ‘cause I _had to_ , it was my duty to show off the goods! So _don’t_ call me a ‘poser’ for ‘thrusting my giblets’ when that’s exactly what gets us noticed. And for your information, I get laid more than _you_ do. Nobody’s ever complained about the paunch!”

 

2D scoffed, irritated by Murdoc’s immaturity and motivated to prove him wrong by finding loopholes in his argument. “Well, I think it’s funny how you said I’ve got the torso of an eight-year-old girl with rickets, yet you stared and smiled at me towards the end of Dirty Harry. I may have poor eyesight, but I _know_ you were admiring me from afar.”

 

Well, shit. Murdoc hadn’t been inconspicuous about that after all.

 

His stomach churned, but he still stood his ground and fibbed. “I-I was just glad that everything turned out alright. I got away with stealing the truck from the army and everyone on set managed to make it out of the desert alive. _That’s_ what I was smiling about. I don’t know _why_ you keep putting so many crazy ideas in your pea-sized brain.”

 

Stu shook his head in disbelief, putting his switchblade back inside his pocket after tucking the blade away. “You’ve always had a real penchant for contradicting yourself. I don’t believe you.”

 

Murdoc let out a groan, running his hands down his face. He was tired of shouting at his obstinate bandmate, who could actually be astute when he wanted to be. “ _Jesus_ , Stu… why do you have to challenge me all the time now? You never did that back in the old days, and everything was much _easier_ between us then. Why can’t you just go back to singing my songs while sitting there, looking pretty?”

 

All of a sudden, it grew quiet. The tension in the air grew thicker and thicker with each moment of silence that passed. Stu looked down at the ground as his reply rolled off of his tongue: an epiphany that he had awhile ago.

 

“I changed ‘cos I wised up. I woke up, and learned the truth about you and myself.”

 

Murdoc looked back up at 2D, unable to wrack his brain for a witty response.

 

2D carried on with his dialogue, “I learned that I’m bigger and better than the way _you_ see me. I don’t push other people around like you do. Do you know why that is, Murdoc?”

 

The bassist raised a brow, interested yet a bit afraid to hear the answer. “Spit it out.”

 

Stu maintained eye contact with the shorter man, feeling above him as he squared his shoulders. “ _I_ don’t push other people around like you do, because I’ve got dignity and self-respect.”

 

A shiver ran through Murdoc’s body. He had been subjected to much torture and trauma from many people in his life, but 2D’s unexpected insight gave him chills and would truly haunt him forever.

 

Be that as it may, he wasn’t willing to back down. He needed to assert himself and knock some sense into 2D: his own twisted way of showing that he had dignity and self-respect.

 

Murdoc clenched his hands into fists again, with the goal to punch his adversary in the stomach so that he could double-over and collapse to the ground. The Satanist would then take advantage of his challenger’s immobility to kick him back into submission, taking delight in the way that 2D would whimper and cry as Murdoc’s leather boots would bruise his skin.

 

However, the bassist’s plan for authority backfired when Stu clasped both of his large hands around Murdoc’s fist before it could meet his abdomen. The younger man added in as a warning with a haughty tone to his voice, “Remember, I’ve got a knife.”

 

The older man sneered, up until he noticed that his legs weren’t being obstructed. He could taste his own victory as he proceeded to kick 2D in the shin, using as much force as he could exert.

 

Much to Murdoc’s chagrin, 2D grabbed on to the table next to him for support to prevent himself from falling backwards. Stu smirked at Murdoc as he came closer to him with a scheme in mind.

 

Before Murdoc knew it, 2D abruptly pinned his wrists up against the wall with a tight grip, standing on top of the bassist’s boots so that he couldn’t kick him again.

 

“Try to fight me _now_ , you bastard,” the younger man spat.

 

Murdoc squirmed around in his grasp, trying to ignore the unexpected rush of heat to his face… and his crotch. “Shut the fuck up, you _piece of shit_. Now let me go!”

 

“You’re only gonna do something completely mad if I do,” 2D disparaged him.

 

The shorter man couldn’t even conjure a comeback, becoming all too-aware of the close proximity and the shared body heat between him and Stu. He avoided 2D’s gaze, clenching his jaw with a dirty look on his face.

 

A look of pride etched upon Stu’s features. “Not gonna disagree with me, then? Just gonna accept that I’ve got you under my thumb now?”

 

2D glanced Murdoc up and down, noticing that he still refused to look into his eyes… and that his prominent bulge poked through his jeans. Stu smirked, amused by the outcome of this situation and suddenly forgetting about their squabble. He hadn’t known that Murdoc was into this sort of thing—and given how fucked their relationship already was and the fact that they had messed around before, it probably wouldn’t hurt to ask if he wanted to have a bit of fun with him again.

 

Stu decided to play along, beginning to feel titillated himself from the power rush. “Hm… there’s nothing wrong with a lil’ role reversal every now and then, isn’t that right?”

 

“N-no,” Murdoc finally spoke up, “Nothin’—nothin’ wrong with that, Stu.”

 

The grin on 2D’s face grew wider as he stepped a bit closer towards Murdoc, Converse remaining on top of leather boots. “How long have we gone without each other in bed anyway?”

 

Stu already knew the answer, but he wanted to stir up Murdoc by making him recall some memories of their last time together.

 

Murdoc’s breath caught in his throat. “L-last time was Jamaica. Same day I fell on my back and took that photo of you holding an inner tube. I snorted coke off of your hard-on that night.”

 

“Huh… it’s been far too long, hasn’t it?” Stu questioned as he slowly rubbed his thumbs along Murdoc’s wrists.

 

“Y-yes…” Murdoc affirmed, realizing how pathetic it was that he was going against his objective of showing 2D who was boss. But his dick was doing the thinking for him right now, and he just couldn’t resist how alluring Stu looked with a self-assured, lecherous look on his beautiful face.

 

2D smirked, leaning his face in closer to the bassist’s. “It’d be lovely if we could do it again, now wouldn’t it?”

 

Murdoc groaned loudly. “Oh, goddammit, quit playing your little game and just fuck me already!”

 

2D held back a laugh. “Come again?” he asked teasingly.

 

“Quit playing your little game and just _fuck me already!”_ the older man cried louder.

 

“Where are your manners, Murdoc?”

 

“ _Please_ , Stu, just take me _now!”_ the Satanist whined.

 

“Alright, alright. No need to be a drama queen about it,” the blue-haired man chuckled.

 

He proceeded to remove his feet from Murdoc’s, then stepped as close as he could to the other man. 2D let go of his wrists, bringing them to Murdoc’s arse as he began to rub his clothed crotch against the bassist’s. Due to the seven-inch height difference between them, the taller man had to bend his knees a bit. According to Murdoc’s whimpers of pleasure, Stu thankfully managed to make it work.

 

Murdoc finally gained the courage to look into the singer’s eyes, his eyes half-lidded in bliss. He couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned in and closed the gap between them in a passionate kiss, revealing how desperate he had been to feel Stu’s lips on his again all these years. 2D slowly slipped his hands down the back of Murdoc’s trousers and boxers, squeezing his bare arse. The older man tugged on tufts of soft blue hair, eliciting a grunt from the younger. Stu grew harder and harder the more he fondled Murdoc’s ass, grinding against him faster and faster.

 

Soon enough, Murdoc pulled away from the kiss and reached up to growl in his mate’s ear, “C’mon, luv, fill me up with those long, pretty pianist fingers of yours.”

 

His choice of words sent a buzz of excitement throughout 2D’s body, making him feel a bit weak in the knees. However, he reminded himself to stay on top of the situation. After all, it wasn’t often that Murdoc got to be the underdog among the two of them.

 

“Alright then, since you’re so desperate for me,” 2D replied playfully.

 

Stu placed a hand on the older man’s lower back, guiding him to his unkempt bed. He then shoved Murdoc down on the mattress, causing the latter to emit a surprised yelp. 2D ignored it, sitting down on the edge of the bed right by his nightstand to search for his lube inside the drawer. As he dug through its contents, Murdoc snaked over to Stu’s side, slowly and sensually running his hand along 2D’s thin biceps.

 

“Goodness gracious, just look at the muscles on you…” Murdoc uttered in a mock lustful tone, “So much upper body strength… You pushed me so hard, I could see my life flashing before my very eyes.”

 

“Shut up and lie down,” 2D ordered, grabbing the lubricant after finding it.

 

“As you wish, _master_ ,” Murdoc responded affirmatively. But before he obeyed Stu’s command, he bit down on his bony shoulder, practically chomping on the skin. Murdoc wanted to fulfill his own masochistic desires, hoping to grate on the singer’s nerves with his actions so that Stu could let out his anger on him.

 

“OW!” the pale man cried out as he dropped the bottle, picking it back up before rubbing the aching and tender spot.

 

Murdoc smirked up at him. “Does poor lil’ Stu need a Band-Aid and a kiss for his boo-boo?”

 

2D gave his partner a dirty look. “Fuck you.”

 

In a fit of rage and passion, he crawled on top of Murdoc and pinned his wrists down on the bed. Stu immediately brought his lips to Murdoc’s neck, mirroring the amount of force that the Satanist put in his bite.

 

_“Fuck!”_ the older man cried out as he grabbed on to the back of 2D’s shirt.

 

Stu repeated the action on other spots of the bassist’s neck as Murdoc sweared and whimpered in pain. The Satanist basked in how much the bites hurt, happy that he had accomplished his goal of riling up 2D.

 

After a bit, the blue-haired man pulled away, taking note of the marks that were beginning to surface on Murdoc’s skin.

 

“That’s what you get for chomping on my shoulder,” Stu spoke up in a smug tone.

 

“A very rewarding punishment,” Murdoc replied, beginning to undo his trousers before sliding them off with his briefs.

 

Stu decided to follow suit, then suddenly heard the snap of a bottle cap opening. Murdoc proceeded to grab 2D’s hand, pouring lube onto his index and middle fingers.

 

“Now hurry up and get to work,” the bassist ordered, looking up at his superior as he spread his legs.

 

“I thought _I_ was supposed to be in charge here.”

 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t give you some orders here and there.”

 

2D sighed, getting off the mattress to kneel down on the carpet, right by the edge of the bed. He then brought one of his fingers to Murdoc’s entrance, rubbing the muscle firmly for a bit. Afterwards, he slowly inserted his digit inside. Stu could feel the bassist tense up, but it didn’t take long for him to relax.

 

As he moved his finger inside of Murdoc, he eyed his partner’s cock—and it suddenly occurred to him that it had been lacking attention. 2D teasingly ran the tip of his tongue along the underside, smirking as Murdoc let out an abrupt gasp.

 

“Please, Stu—” Murdoc begged after the younger man brought his tongue away, aching for him to do it again.

 

2D shook his head, chuckling at the sight of the Satanist coming undone. “I’m calling the shots here, remember?”

 

He then proceeded to stick his second finger inside, noticing how Murdoc hands clenched tightly at the sheets.

 

“ _Shit…_ ” the older man breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.

 

Stu grabbed on to Murdoc’s thigh as he began to pump both of his fingers faster, giving his cock another gentle and taunting lick.

 

“ _Fuck_ , Stu!” Murdoc cried, “ _Fuck_ , you’re killing me!”

 

2D only laughed. Soon enough, he applied some lube on his ring finger, pushing it in inside Murdoc when he felt that the bassist was ready for it. His own cock throbbed as he watched how Murdoc writhed and whimpered, basking in the feeling of having three long fingers near his sweet spot. Stu’s ego swelled knowing that he had the ability to turn his domineering bandmate into a hot, moaning mess.

 

To unravel him even more, 2D leaned down and lightly ran his tongue along Murdoc’s tip as he thrusted his fingers inside him faster.

 

The older man wailed, feeling overpowered by the sensation of Stu’s soft tongue on his cock and his nimble pianist fingers all shoved inside of him. It was all too much, and he felt as though he was about to explode. “ _S-Satan_ , I’m gonna—!”

 

All of a sudden, 2D withdrew his fingers and his tongue away from Murdoc, shaking his head at him. “Nope, not now. I haven’t even got off yet. Not everything’s all about you, y’know.”

 

Murdoc rolled his eyes, though he looked forward to the possible orgasm that Stu’s sizable cock would bring him. “Sure, keep tellin’ yourself that, dullard.”

 

Stu dismissed that comment and stood up, applying an ample amount of lube on his dick before prodding himself inside the bassist. Murdoc bit on his lip, holding back a gasp as he closed his eyes and gripped on to the bedsheets. 2D rested his hands on his friend’s thighs, starting to slowly push himself inside of him.

 

“N-not all the way, not all the way,” Murdoc urged, trying to accommodate to Stu’s length.

 

“I know,” 2D assured him. “Very few people can take me all in one go.”

 

“Quit your bragging.”

 

“How about you learn to take your own advice?”

 

“How about you shut the hell up and pick up the pace?”

 

Stu huffed. He would have refused to obey Murdoc just to tease him, but he was desperately in need of release. 2D proceeded to thrust in him faster, closing his eyes as he moaned and panted heavily.

 

It wasn’t long until 2D came with a guttural groan, remaining inside of Murdoc as he finished the bassist off by stroking his cock. The singer then pulled out of him, trying to relax after he situated himself underneath the bed sheets.

 

It was silent in the room after they both caught their breaths, save for the oscillation of the ceiling fan. Stu lay on his side, staring at the wall as he let his train of thought go off the rails. His mind wandered off to how good of a fuck he just had, then to the Jamaican beach where Murdoc fell out of the palm tree, and then to the time when the bassist shoved a bag of cocaine up his arse to get through the airport security before their flight to the Caribbean.

 

Amidst all of those thoughts, an eye-opening realization occurred to him seemingly out of nowhere:

 

Murdoc initially came to his room to ask Stu what was going on with him and to put him back in his place. But in a twist of events, the bassist only ended up _begging_ the younger man to have his way with him.

 

It was odd when he thought about it that perspective.

 

Not that they would have fixed anything if they actually talked things out, of course. They were both too stubborn to work on their personal shortcomings for the betterment of their relationship.

 

That was enough proof to show that they were the absolute worst for each other.

 

2D’s stomach started to twist and turn. He hated it when he got caught up in thinking about his dynamic with Murdoc, because he could never put his finger on what exactly was going on between them. Hell, he couldn’t even predict if tonight would change things between them forever, or if Murdoc would move on from it as if nothing had happened.

 

As though Murdoc could read his thoughts, he showed that he wanted to avoid confrontation by standing up from the bed and getting dressed wordlessly. However, once he was fully clothed, he turned to look at 2D. He reached his arm over and gave Stu’s hand a light squeeze, looking into his pitch-black eyes. Oddly enough, there was a softness and even a hint of sadness in Murdoc’s eyes. The two of them sustained cryptic eye contact for a bit after the bassist pulled his calloused hand away from 2D's gentle one. Murdoc then looked down at the ground, turning around to leave the bedroom in silence.

 

Stu was taken aback. Murdoc had always been a man to just say what was on his mind, so for him to express that bit of physical affection without context perplexed 2D.

 

What did he mean by that hand squeeze? Was it a different way to say ‘bye’ or ‘see you later’? Was it a thank you for their time in bed? But considering the way the bassist looked into his eyes, it  _had_ to be something deeper.

 

The younger man laid there in confusion, looking up at the ceiling. Murdoc had originally came here to get some answers, but Stu had only been left with even more questions.

 

However, there was one thing that 2D was certain about.

 

If the state of their relationship would never improve, he would never, _ever_ be able to figure out Murdoc’s intentions and who he really was as a person.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! Can you tell I like characterizing 2D as a man who's tired of Murdoc's shit?
> 
> Come hunt me down on Tumblr for more 2Doc fuckery and feel free to say hi: @sadistsatanist666.


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